


Love Notes

by NMartin



Series: Bananun [10]
Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Asylum
Genre: Bananun, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-21 07:01:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3682491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NMartin/pseuds/NMartin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lana writes poetic notes about innocent Mary Eunice and her feelings towards her, but she has never thought the nun would found them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Notes

_“Anne Roiphe wrote that a woman whose smile is open and whose expression is glad has a kind of beauty no matter what she wears. What if that’s true? She always wear black, she never wears anything but her habit. But she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”_

That was written in the first of the many small notes that Lana Winters kept hidden in her cell, behind one of the broken bricks of the wall. Written in the best handwriting that the reporter could do after the weekly electroshock therapy, she sat in the day room with a pencil in her shaky hand, wondering how could that have happened, how could have she started developing feelings for the most innocent creature of the asylum. It was foolish, impossible. And yet, almost every day she found herself writing about the nun instead of her story about the abuses that happened in the asylum, looking at the nun whenever she passed next to her, or simply thinking of what would it feel to kiss her thin, soft lips. Soon she found herself shaking her head, she had to come back home with Wendy.

* * *

_“Victor Hugo once wrote that when a woman is talking to you, listen to what she says with her eyes. And I know what he meant now, I could lose myself inside those baby blue eyes.”_

That note had fallen from its hiding place, and the young nun had found it on a corner of the cell, damp. Mary looked at it with wide eyes, reading it once, twice, so many times her head felt dizzy. It was obvious that the journalist had still not forgotten her lover, Wendy. It was obvious that Lana was still in love with her, that note was too beautiful to be just a delirium from a mentally ill person. Of course, the journalist was not crazy— God said love was love no matter what, how could a love so strong, even if it was something as forbidden as a love between two women, be wrong?

She looked around the cell, not knowing where to hide the note. If there was one, there would be more, right? She started by looking under the mattress, quickly realizing that Sister Jude would have found anything there. She then turned around and looked at the wall, looking at the bricks and resting her palms on them until she finally sensed something soft behind one of them. That brick was broken in half, and as she pulled she noticed it could be removed— finding a piece of cloth with small notes inside of it. She knew it was wrong to intrude in someone’s privacy like that, but Lana was in electroshock therapy and that she wouldn’t be back for a few hours... No one but God and herself would ever know. She sat on the bed and started reading them, smiling.

_“And in her smile I see something more beautiful than the stars.”_

Mary let out a soft giggle, folding the small note again and leaving on her side before taking the next one, written in the back of a ripped corner of the newspaper.

_“There is never a time or place for true love. It happens accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a single flashing, throbbing moment.”_

The nun bit her lip, closing her eyes and imagining that someone said that to her. She was married to God, and she was happy, but a small part of her longed for someone to love her as much as Lana seemed to love Wendy. She is so lucky, these notes show how much she loves her. She folded the note again, choosing a dirty piece of paper with awfully messy handwriting on it.

_”She brings hope to my days, and when I see her I don’t care I am locked in this place. Sweet Sister Mary of my heart, she’s my guiding light in the darkness of this hole.”_

* * *

“The sweetest of all sounds is that of the voice of the woman we love.”

Mary had entered the room and was sitting with Pepper, talking to her— reading her a story. And Lana, who was sitting near enough to hear the perfect music her voice was, simply closed her eyes and listened to it. She spend a complete hour like that, until all inmates were called to take their medicine— and quickly Mary was gone. Lana stood up and walked to the end of the line, right behind Kit and Alma, her eyes searching the nun’s habit on the corridor. Soon she had taken that distasteful pill and walked towards the bakery, knowing she’d find the nun there. She was always there, working peacefully with the bread. When the journalist entered, she could hear her hum a religious song, making her smile.

“Sister Mary Eunice?” she asked quietly, making the sweet woman jump in surprise and turn to look at her.

“Miss Winters.” she told with a shy smile, her eyes wide as she saw the journalist approach and stand next to the wooden table. “I did not know it was your turn to help in the bakery today.” she muttered, going back to her task.

“No, it’s not. I offered myself for the task.” Lana told, walking besides the nun and starting to help kneading the dough, letting out a sigh. “Your company is better than hearing Dominique so many times a day,”

“I am not sure about that, Miss Winters. Dominique is a beautiful song.”

“I am not sure about that, Sister.” Lana replied with a smug smile, falling silent for many minutes after that. They kept working together like that for half an hour, the calm that flooded the kitchen just making the nun be more and more nervous. Should she say something about the notes? It was true that since she had read them she had noticed the way the reporter looked at her. She sighed and stopped her work, then looked at the woman.

“Miss Winters, can I ask you something?” she questioned, looking at the other with worry.

“Yes, of course.” Lana told, kneading on another amount of dough and looking at her with curiosity. God, these blue eyes... How could someone not love them?

“The notes from your cell... Are they about me?”

“W—What?! How— When— How do you know about them?!”

“I’m sorry, Miss Winters. I found them by accident, and I couldn’t help myself...” the nun looked down, staring at the bread, avoiding to look at the reporter. She was afraid, afraid that her foolishness had made Lana stop looking at her with these adoring stares she had started to like so much. She suddenly felt a hand on her cheek, making her turn to face the brunette, who looked at her with a doubting look.

“Yes, they are.” she whispered before melting their lips into a soft, gentle kiss— one that Mary did not pull back from.

_“A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous."_


End file.
